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That April 2 feeling


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Posted

Nice article by Vaibhav Vats... Excerpt...

It seemed all boundaries had become redundant, time itself made fluid; both the nostalgia of past memories and the adrenaline of impending celebrations flowed like tributaries into the present moment. The senses suffered from a kind of excess; the pandemonium in the middle, the uninterrupted announcements on the giant screen, the fireworks shooting off the roof and lighting up the already hazy sky. The spectators around me seemed not to know what the hell to do with themselves. They chanted, danced, sang and yet the expended energy did not feel adequate to the occasion. Perhaps nothing would have. Even though I could no longer feel like a fan, the adrenaline was such that, without thinking, I ran to the press box from the stand. No time for celebration here; everyone was glued to their laptops, as if in a trance. Phone calls were answered swiftly, as one would during a military operation. The broadsheets cared about nothing else tomorrow and the editors kept ringing with an almost nonstop demand for more and more stories. In the centre, innumerable sub-plots unfolded: the entire Indian team scurrying from the pavilion and converging on Dhoni; Yuvraj collapsing in pure tears; the Sri Lankans mournful to a fault, as if they had all gambled away their houses. And it was only later that I could weave through the diffuseness of it all and dissect it moment by moment. At the Wankhede, the sub-plots quickly gave way to the narrative that would inevitably occupy centre stage. Kohli, seizing the moment, lifted Tendulkar onto his shoulders and carried him around his home ground. The crowd quietened into a reverential hush, as if witnessing the passing of a saint. Applause broke out in the press box and, for the only time, it did not feel unprofessional. The little man had transcended partisanship. The symbolism of the moment was powerful, in more ways than one, for it was a night where the young had made up for the failures of the old guard. And yet, despite all that, it appeared such an ordinary thing. Without the magnifying lens of television, it seemed such an ordinary way to commemorate a man's quest stretching more than two decades. Like so many other things that evening, the gravity of this moment could only be felt later. At the presentation, Sangakkara was ambassadorial as ever. "With this Indian batting line-up, you're never safe unless you get over 350," he said. "Both Sri Lanka and India can be proud of the way we've played, but the better side won." As the Sri Lankans collected their medallions, I felt for these cricketers who typified both exuberance and humility. Gracefulness in defeat, self-effacement in victory; the Sri Lankans alone seemed repositories of old-school qualities disappearing in this age of brashness. To nobody's surprise, Yuvraj was voted man-of-the-tournament. His renaissance was complete; plagued with self-doubt at the beginning, he thrillingly grew in confidence as the tournament wore on, ending up with 362 runs and fifteen wickets. It was a decision that could have been made without a jury. Facing Ravi Shastri, whose tiring baritone felt the only repetitive element this evening, Yuvraj's face revealed the exertions of sustained crying. He spoke rapidly and thanked an unlikely assortment of people. These included his spiritual gurus as well as Narendra Hirwani, who had been helping him with his left-arm spin. Finally exhausted, he said, "Tonight's going to be a good night." ....
Link to the complete article... http://www.espncricinfo.com/magazine/content/story/625984.html
Posted

I remember waking up at 4 AM and having a friend and his family come over just to watch this match. It was such a surreal moment when we won. I don't think I have felt like that ever before or after!

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